


naegi gets fucking pissed on

by ruruka



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Golden shower, M/M, Omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-02 04:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruruka/pseuds/ruruka
Summary: sluuuuurp





	

**Author's Note:**

> sluuuuurp

It's as if some divine force has appeared on stars to say it to him, tell him by the softest breath past lips softer still, adolescent dawn craving their touch.

"You're filthy."

Shivers bite him, snapping jaws to leave his muscles all contracted in pleasure. He's been degraded to nothing by the smuggest motherfucker in the entire universe- and he'd say he could have sworn it was spelled _s-e-x-i-e-s-t_ , not _s-m-u-g-g-e-s-t._ The lights bleed a dimness that glows their skin honey, and the porcelain is cold against his shins, palms, but it's all just so delectable he doesn't care to notice the chill. _You're filthy_ he's been told, but it isn't his fault entirely. Blame can more so be laid toward the sear of the one relaying.

The one poised above him, knees shoulder width, eyes milky in moonlight. Naegi _throbs_.

"Lie on your back," and he complies at light's speed, knocks his elbow into the bathtub's corner hard enough to send an agonized twang up to his shoulder bones. They rest each beneath him to support the raise of his neck, and his knees bend to keep thighs tightly content around the heat betwixt them.

The shower floor is an arena for their acrid lust. With those hazy hazels, Naegi watches him, studies him, admires the slow stroke of hand up the length of his cock. His throat tightens into a choke he doesn't have the audacity to correct, because any movement feels a sin; the slightest error could play the sour note in this delicious melody, and that is not something, for all their shared fortune, he can afford to chance. When the view of his face tilts instead to the underneath, and the glides of his hands pause, Naegi Makoto's heart slams against his ribcage. Constellations rearrange themselves to glow in his expression's flaming zeal.

It starts at his navel- the warmth of the stream, melting to his flush. It starts at his navel, moves in haste to drip through chest contours. The first touch of wetness to his throat shocks his cock to curl hard against his tummy.

He shifts in bobs of hips, works himself lower the slightest to total  _majesty_. The flow of his boyfriend's piss streams hot against his face, mouth, neck. Drizzles his jawline a mess, jutting collarbones glistening in the overlights. It's the most gorgeous fucking glory he's ever experienced, hot and wet and all kinds of exciting, and his lips sting with the tart flavor and his dick throbs in building pressure he thinks may just release on its own if this keeps up.

But it can't keep up- he knows it by the strength's gradual lessening, the disappointment scraping his trachea. From the end target, it's clear deliberate aim, and the feel of piss hitting his erection coincides to the stars in his eyes again, though in an all new method of stunning desire.

Togami leans, wet drips working down thighs to soon ankles. He leans to a crouch, takes no words with his other lain in a breathless hush, and it's four strokes of his hand before Naegi comes in an arch of his back and a cry from his tongue. Then he's spent in his sated reverie, contently sticky sticky sticky, wet with come and piss and pleasure. Tingles rolls from hips to nape, and the scoff of absolute _disgust_ thrown his way feeds the shredding claws of perfection through his skin.

" _Filthy_ ," he spills another time, pressing feet to the plush of towel saving the pristine tile from print tracks to mar it.

Naegi takes the slow beat of a nod, because, really, there's no place for denial.


End file.
